


Not All Contracts Are Made Equal

by heeroluva



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Double Penetration, Eggpreg, F/F, Multiple Orgasms, Oviposition, Shapeshifting during sex, Stomach Bulge, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Even the most seasoned witcher knows better than to enter a sirens’ nest alone and unprepared, the creatures coming together by the hundreds to better care for and protect their young, a far cry from their smaller hunting groups. And Ciri had just walked right into one with nary a plan.





	Not All Contracts Are Made Equal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dread_persephone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dread_persephone/gifts).



> The siren transformation for reference: <https://thumbs.gfycat.com/ConcreteFrighteningAtlanticspadefish-mobile.mp4>

At the top of the hill, Ciri reins in her horse and pauses to take a moment to admire the breathtaking view, the setting sun painting the sky a dazzling mix of pinks and purple and oranges. However, the sea below twists the reflected visions into something eerie. A sudden shriek of terror, a child’s voice, causes her horse to rear, and Ciri’s lungs seize as she hits the ground hard, her horse bolting down the overgrown trail.

A second shriek sees Ciri scrambling, forcing air into her lungs, for her feet to move before she skids down the rocky hill towards the lapping water’s edge. A third shriek sends Ciri racing along the rock-strewn shore, heart racing as she fears the worst, certain she’s too late. Passing between two boulders, Ciri skids to a stop as she’s brought face to face with the source of the sound.

A young siren, blue green scales catching the waning light, is being tossed into the air by her mother, testing her underdeveloped wings in the breeze. Dozens more are frolicking in the shallows under the watchful eyes of their mothers, mothers who now turn their attention to Ciri.

Reaching for the familiar warmth of her power, Ciri prepares to teleport away, but instead of the normal flood of magic that greets her, she’s met with nothing. She can feel it, thrumming beneath her skin, filling her, yet it refuses to respond.

Ciri’s hand goes to her sword as an entirely different shrieking fills the air as the sinuous winged forms before her take to the air, their human visages melting away to show the monsters true nature. Some snatch up their children and dive beneath the water’s surface. Yet a glance to her right shows more of them rising from the depths, and Ciri takes a step backwards. Before her foot can even touch down, the sirens dive at her, and turning on her heel, Ciri sprints down the shore.

It’s far from the opportune time to reminisce, but a small smile crosses her face as she images the lecture that Vesemir would give her if he could see her now. Even the most seasoned witcher knows better than to enter a sirens’ nest alone and unprepared, the creatures coming together by the hundreds to better care for and protect their young, a far cry from their smaller hunting groups. And Ciri had just walked right into one with nary a plan, and fool that she was, most of her supplies had all been in her saddle bags.

The waning light is a both a curse and a momentary lifesaver as Ciri trips over a half-buried piece of driftwood and goes flying, sprawling on her face, sword skittering across the rocks just as the first of the sirens dives. Desperately trying to scramble towards her sword, it’s her turn to shriek as her ankles are snagged and she’s suddenly pulled backwards before finding herself lifted airborne.

As the siren’s powerful wings lift them higher and higher, the land quickly disappearing from view, Ciri has to fight the urge to struggle, knowing she would never survive the fall. Again she reaches for her power, and again it remains just out of reach.

With the sun now completely beneath the horizon, Ciri wishes she had the witcher’s signature cat eyes. The new moon is hidden from sight, and thick clouds obscure the little light the stars might offer. Hearing the flapping of what must be dozens of wings, Ciri reconsiders, not certain she really wants to see all that badly.

Ciri begins to shiver as they fly higher still. Then she screams when she’s suddenly dropped, the cold the least of her worries as her body jerks painfully when she’s caught before she can fall far, sharp claws catching at her armor, slicing through the scant protection easily and scoring the much more delicate skin beneath. The siren shakes her hard enough that her teeth rattle in her skull and finally the leather gives way with a horrible screeching sound and she finds herself falling once more, hissing in pain when she’s caught again.

The sirens repeat the process in some sort of elaborately orchestrated dance until her armor is nary more than scraps leaving her more naked than clothed, her body arching from the abuse, and a strange heat starts to radiate from the stinging scratches that cover her. 

Each time Ciri drops her stomach leaps to her throat, certain that this will be the last time, that she’ll hit the unforgiving earth at any instance. Yet this time instead of being snagged by whatever convenient body part they can find, the siren catches Ciri beneath her arms and dives.

The action forces Ciri back snuggly against the full length siren’s body. Instead of the expected claws and smooth scales, Ciri is met with human skin—at least on the siren’s top half—hard nipples pressing against her back. She gasps as something cool wraps over each over her thighs—those strange flippers at the sirens’ waist Ciri realizes after a moment’s confusion—forcing her legs to spread wide and high.

Ciri gasps as the cool air hits her spread cunt, and she shakes her head wildly in denial as she realizes just how wet she is. Had they drugged her somehow? She tugs uselessly at the flippers by they don’t budge, leaving her locked in place as effectively as any chains. This can’t be happening. “Why are you doing this?”

The siren spreads her wings, stopping their decent, and the tittering of laughter all around her is Ciri’s only answer. She’s too late to bite back a moan as skilled fingers unexpected puck at her peaked nipples. She goes red and tries and fails to clench her legs shut as a trickle of wetness seeps from her cunt. Her muscles clench around nothing, and she moans again for a different reason. She’s so empty.

Ciri yelps as something fleshy is pressed against her cunt, gasping as it rubs back and forth across her slit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her system each time it nudges her throbbing clit.

“Don’t!” Ciri denies, shaking her head wildly when it surges forward to cover her groin in its entirety, an uncountable number of tendrils unexpectedly massaging her in ways that no human can ever hope to replicate.

The siren doesn’t listen, and Ciri begins to struggle, falling suddenly not sounding so bad after all as she yanks on the siren’s hair.

The warmth of human flesh against Ciri abruptly disappears, and a harsh hiss, the sharp press of needle-like teeth against her neck, and the sudden prick of talons against her beasts are enough of a warning to get her to still.

Ciri’s heart beats wildly in her throat, and she’s loathed to admit that it’s more in pleasure than fear, the unfamiliar tendrils caressing her labia, wrapping around and rhythmically tugging on her clit, pressing teasingly against her urethra, and just barely delving into her cunt.

In the cover of impenetrable darkness that surrounds Ciri, each unseen touch is a shock, her other senses straining to compensate.

The growing ache between her thighs and the wrongness of this situation wars with the unwelcome heat until the pleasure wins out, and Ciri isn’t able to hold back the moan that rises from her throat, the unseen sirens around her suddenly tittering at the sound.

Ciri tries to twist her hips, pressing her hands against the strange appendage between her legs, trying to force it closer, needing more friction than the tendrils are providing, but her squirming gets her nothing except frustration as the tendrils keep up their gentle exploration. Human teeth bite hard at the bend of Ciri’s neck, drawing another groan from her, a sound that’s drawn out when the siren’s hands grope at her breasts, gently tugging on her nipples.

Swiping at the hair sticking to her sweat slicked face, Ciri lowly says, “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” before she covers the siren’s hands with her own, pressing them deeper into her flesh, and encouraging her to be rougher.

The siren takes the hint, harshly twisting Ciri’s nipples, drawing a startled yelp from her. The mix of pain and pleasure is just what she needs to push her over the edge, thighs tensing as she trembles with the force of her orgasm, waves of ecstasy stealing her breath.

Ciri screams as when something shoves itself deep into her body, its narrow tip quickly thickening to spread her uncomfortably wide. She’s never been filled so deeply before—she screams again at the sharp pain as it forces a place inside of her open, reaching depths inside of her that she is certain aren’t supposed to be touched. Once more she reaches for her power, and once more it refuses to answer her.

Pressing trembling fingers against her stomach, Ciri can’t believe the way her stomach bulges from the size of whatever has been forced into her. 

She barely notices the sudden shrieking of the sirens around her, too consumed by what she’s feeling. The pain fades to a dull ache like a pulled muscle, and she reaches down, trying to pull it out of her, but her fingers can’t find purchase against the slick surface of the strange limb that has quite literally suctioned itself onto her.

Ciri shrieks when they suddenly plummet, the siren’s wing strokes abruptly faltering.

The appendage pulses, and something pressing against the entrance of Ciri’s already stuffed cunt. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as it spreads her wider and wider before it finally slides inside. She realizes that she’s wrong, that something is being pushed through the thing filling her.

Blood going cold, Ciri knows what this is.

Eggs. The siren’s ovipositor is deep within Ciri’s womb, and it is filling Ciri with her eggs.

Shouting her denial, Ciri fights with everything she has. 

For all of two seconds before another siren wraps her arms around them both, trapping Ciri between their unmovable bodies, her hissing face full of deadline fangs scant millimeters away from Ciri’s own.

Ciri hisses back in fury. “Just you wait. I’ll—“

Lips press against Ciri’s own before a too long tongue shoves itself into her mouth. Ciri’s face twists in disgust at the taste, then she gags as it pushes too deep.

She’ll—she’ll—Ciri shudders with an unexpected orgasm as the egg settles deep within her, the second already pressing into her spasming body.

Ciri is helpless to do anything as she’s slowly filled with eggs, each one taking its sweet time to reach her core and rest heavy within her. After six she goes limp, the second siren pulling away, and Ciri presses her hands against stomach again, exploring the slowly rising bulge of her abdomen, able to feel each egg as it’s deposited within her, forcing her insides to stretch and rearrange themselves to make room for it. She loses count after twelve, nearly delirious with pleasure.

When the siren finally finishes depositing her eggs and pulls out, so drunk with pleasure, body still quaking with small orgasms, Ciri barely notices. However, she certainly doesn’t miss when the siren abruptly lets her go, screaming as she plummets downward.

In a repeat of the sirens’ earlier actions, Ciri finds herself caught beneath her arms by another, her ventral flippers wrapping securely around Ciri’s thighs, spreading her wide again.

“You’ll regret this when I get out of here,” Ciri seethes as something very solid is pressed into her swollen cunt, something very different from the soft ovipositor that had filled her before, something she was more familiar with. If it feels like a cock and acts like a cock… If she thought she’d been spread wide before, it’s nothing compared to the very cock like appendage that fills her more than she’d ever thought possible.

With each flap of the siren’s wings her cock slides in and out of Ciri, filthy, wet sucking sounds accompany each thrust. Pressing her hands to her stomach, she can’t believe how rounded it’s become, how much more it stretches with deep thrust of the siren’s cock. Hands raising to cup her breasts, Ciri twists her sensitive nipples and groans with self-disgust as another orgasm rises, crying out when she’s unexpectedly filled with a rush of cool liquid.

Fertilizing the eggs.

The pieces start falling into place. The contract that had brought her out here. The long history of missing women. How had the witchers never discovered this before?

“You’re gotten to be kidding me,” Ciri gripes when at the edge of orgasm the siren pulls out and abruptly drops her. She hangs momentarily from the cock alone, the tip having flared hugely within her before gravity wins out and it pops free. 

Again she’s caught and filled. The process repeats time and time again, like intricately composed dance. Siren after siren. Orgasm after orgasm. Drop after drop.

Some catch Ciri and press their fronts together, press their lips against hers in some mockery of a kiss, and she can’t help but wrap her arms and legs around them, greedily seeking more pleasure. She falls into a daze, her stomach steadily swelling.

That daze is quickly broken when a siren misses her target and presses her cock against Ciri’s unprepared asshole.

“What are you—No! That’s not—”

Ciri screams as the slick appendage sinks into the wrong hole. It burns of course, but it’s more shocking than painful, and Ciri shoves her fingers into her cunt, fucking herself as she rubs her clit. She gasps as another siren suddenly joins them, wrapping her arms around the pair, her cock rubbing again Ciri’s fingers, demanding entrance.

The siren makes a confused sound, then one of frustration as she can’t seem to find the welcoming heat she expects. When she hisses in fury, claws pricking at Ciri’s skin, Ciri yanks her out of the way.

The siren wastes no time filling Ciri completely and then some, her body forced to stretch to accommodate the two massive cocks now filling her. The noise that escapes Ciri’s throat is something she’s never heard from herself before, high-pitched and needy. 

More. She needs more. 

And the sirens give her more. Now more often than not two at a time fill her. When two manage to wedge the narrow tips of their cocks into her dripping cunt at the same time, Ciri is certain that they won’t fit, that they’ll rip her open, but she wants them, and the sirens give her exactly what she wants, showing her that her body is able to take so much more than she ever imagined.

Dozens of sirens later, Ciri’s stomach is hugely swollen with eggs and seed. 

When the last siren dives, Ciri secure on her cock, the sun is beginning to rise above the horizon. Ciri has barely a moment to appreciate the sight of just how very large she has become, eyes growing wide with disbelief before she notices that the water is coming up exceedingly fast. Ciri screams when the siren doesn’t pull up, when they sink beneath the waves, water immediately filling her mouth as they sink beneath the waves.

Ciri can feel the siren’s body shift, her powerful muscles propelling them through the water. Long seconds then minutes tick by and her lungs burn until she no longer hold her breath, lungs filling with water as she attempts to breathe in.

When Ciri awakes it’s to a beautiful lullaby and moaning. Opening her eyes, Ciri is greeted by glow worms hanging from a cavern’s ceiling, illuminating the dozens of heavily pregnant human women laying in shallow water, sirens gently attending to each. One women is shaking with pleasure as she struggles to expel her eggs, tears streaming down her face as the sirens caress her lovingly.

Ciri tries to sit up, but her stomach is so swollen she care barely move. 

Upon seeing Ciri awake, a siren presses her mouth against hers.

Ciri will figure out how to get out of here just as soon as—Ciri moans as fingers slip into her cunt.


End file.
